Choosing Someone Better Novel Novels & Stories

"Kind of. I just wish the girl would have ended up with her best friend instead of the hot guy." He raises an eyebrow. "Oh? You like rooting for the underdog." "He knew her better than anyone else, even her own parents. He did so much for her. He sacrificed so much for her. It was obvious how much he loved her. But she chose another guy. Why? Because he was hotter? Because he was a bad boy?" Colt shrugs. "The heart knows what it wants. The guy is better off with someone who actually wants to be with him. I'm sure he'll eventually meet her one day."

“Then what?” When his eyes opened again, they were filled with fire, but beneath it… I saw the grief. “Then someone else came along. Someone wealthier with the kind of name and influence her parents approved of. And suddenly, everything started to change. Kimberley… she started pulling away, making excuses and saying she needed space.” My stomach dropped, dread twisting.

“There will be no more escape attempts! You will be polite to the prince and you will not even hint that you would rather be anywhere but here with him!” “Yes mother,” Catherine mumbled. She made a face as soon as her mother turned around, and Rose had to stifle a laugh. “I can’t even enjoy my last evening of freedom,” she said under her breath, “no, I have to spend it getting to know the prince no one else wanted.” “What do you mean?” Rose asked, her voice low. I raised an eyebrow. “He wasn’t even my original intended,” Catherine replied with disgust, as if it was something we didn’t already know. “His older brother was. When his brother died, they just switched out the groom like no one wo

The words exploded out of him, loud enough that we both froze, and carefully listened for any faint sounds of movement from down the hall. Nothing. Then he continued in a harsh whisper. "I want you to be sure that you want this. That you want me. That you really do want me, not just because I'm forbidden, not because I'm convenient, not because we live in the same fucking house and can't escape each other. I want you to choose me knowing you could have someone better." "Better," I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Someone better." "Yes." "Someone like Miles."

My husband, Jared Casey, and I decide to host another wedding ceremony on our 20th wedding anniversary. Just before the ceremony begins, my best friend, Noelle Stark, and Jared are suddenly nowhere to be found. They don't pick up their phones when I call them. I search every nook and cranny and finally hear them arguing inside a private room. "I'm going to come clean to Lilian after the ceremony is over. The children need their father," Jared says. "Don't you dare!" Noelle hisses. "You already secretly tampered with her university application form all those years ago for my sake. I even gave birth to your children. We've already wronged her too many times. We can't hurt her again." The b

he said. "Two nodes and referrals," Dante said. "The selective intake. The letters I can actually write. The specific, personal architecture." "The room with its own entrance," Elian said. "Yes," Dante said. "Not the building." Elian walked for a moment. The Atlantic was beside them. The October light was on the water. "That's the fourth novel's ninth chapter," he said. "Tell me," Dante said. "The novel has been building toward a decision," Elian said. "The character — the Dante character — is offered the opportunity to scale the foundation. To make it larger, more institutional, more — significant in the quantitative sense. And he chooses not to."

My daughter and my husband’s godson were diagnosed with acute leukemia at the same time. The doctors said a banked cord-blood unit could save a life. His foster sister, Rebecca Sloan, knelt in front of me with her son in her arms and begged until her voice gave out. “Claire, please, let Leo have the cord blood. His father died right after he was born and I never banked any of my own. Have some pity on the two of us. “Leo is the only child I have. I’m begging you. Save him.” I refused outright. I was not going to gamble with my daughter’s life. Then, on the morning of my daughter’s treatment, my husband, Ethan Hale hit me with his car and left me critically injured. The wheels went ove

“I choose my mother.” Lucien raised his. “I choose Sophia.” Adrian lowered his head. “I choose not to be your weapon.” Death spoke: “I choose life.” Noah: “I choose uncertainty.” The Devil King: “I choose redemption.” One by one every character chose something the Reader had not written. The book began tearing itself apart. The Reader screamed: “STOP!” Sophia looked at him. “You wanted a story.” She stepped forward. “We gave you one.” She raised her hand. “But you forgot something.”

On the terrace in the spring evening with the city below and the door open behind us and the stars above us and Emma naming them and Patricia listening and Lucian's hand at the small of my back and the life that was built from choice rather than accident, from decision rather than inheritance, from the specific and daily act of showing up for each other through everything that tried to find the space between us. The final entry in the journal is this. Not the story I would have written for myself. Better. And still going. END OF BOOK 2 THE PRICE OF FOREVER

"With Olivia?" Say yes. Please say yes. Silence. The silence stretched. Filled the room. Filled my chest. Crushed my lungs. He wasn't answering. Why wasn't he answering? "I knew it." Mara started crying again. "You don't love her. You can't. Because I'm the one who should be standing by your side. Me. Not her." I stumbled backward as the room began to spin. His resolute back. That's what I kept seeing. Him climbing out of the elevator. Leaving me there. Walking away without looking back.